* * *
WHEN HARPER RETURNED to the main ranch house after seeing her mother, the guard at the gate buzzed to tell her she had a visitor. The name didn’t sound familiar.
“Did she say what it was about?” Harper asked suspiciously. Often the media would try anything to get inside the house for a story.
“She says she has information about your mother.”
Still annoyed with her mother’s attitude toward Brody, she told the guard to let the woman in. If it turned out the visitor was lying, she could call the guard and have him escort her away.
Harper felt anxious. She’d gone to her mother’s hoping for some reassurance after the grisly scene she’d witnessed earlier; instead, she had left even more upset.
Now she opened the door to find a young, pretty woman standing there. “I’m Ariel Crenshaw.” When Harper didn’t react, she added, “I’m Ace’s sister.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who Ace is,” Harper said, wondering now if she had been too quick to let in a complete stranger. Since her father had joined the race for president and her mother had returned, they’d been inundated with reporters. Harper hated that they had to have guards at the front gate. She yearned for the days when they came and went without being under such scrutiny.
“Addison ‘Ace’ Crenshaw, the private investigator your mother hired,” the woman clarified.
Her mother had hired a PI? “I’m sorry. This is news to me.” Harper was just beginning to realize how much her family kept from her. “Won’t you come in,” she said, moving aside. “You say my mother hired your sister?”
“Before she was killed,” Ariel said. “My condolences, by the way.”
“Wait, no. You’re referring to my stepmother, Angelina.”
“My mistake. I’m so sorry.” Ariel had stopped in the middle of the large living room as if not sure what to do next.
Harper wasn’t sure there was anything she wanted to know about the Ice Queen, as she and her sisters called Angelina. They had never been close to the woman their father had married. She had always treated them as if Buck’s six daughters were a burden she had to bear.
“Let me start at beginning,” Ariel said. “My sister was murdered. I’m trying to find out why. It seems to have had something to do with an anarchist group called The Prophecy?”
Harper shook her head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
This surprised Ariel. “Your father didn’t tell you that two members of the group have been implicated in the death of my sister, as well as the death of your stepmother?”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I was out of the country, but the last I heard, it was an accident.” She motioned the young woman into a chair. “Would you like something to drink?”
Ariel declined but took a seat. She sat on the edge and leaned eagerly toward Harper. “My sister was investigating a woman by the name of Sarah Johnson. Is that anyone you know?”
Harper hesitated. “That is my mother.”
“Oh.” Ariel sat back, wariness replacing the earlier eagerness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. This is all quite confusing.”
Their family had been in the news for months, especially because of her mother. “You must not read newspapers or watch the news.”
“I had been working with my church group in a remote part of Africa until my sister’s death. We had neither newspapers nor television and little news filtered in from outside.”
Harper didn’t like talking about her family’s situation since her mother’s return, but this young woman had lost her sister possibly because Angelina had hired her to dig up dirt on Sarah.
“I grew up believing my mother was dead,” Harper explained. “She drove into the river when I was only a few months old and drowned. At least that’s what we all thought. Apparently, she was trying to kill herself for some unknown reason and failing that, she disappeared for twenty-two years. She suddenly reappeared a year ago. What makes it even more bizarre is that she swears she doesn’t remember anything from the birth of my twin and me until she ‘woke up’ in the middle of a dirt road outside of Beartooth. According to her, she has no idea where she’d been those twenty-two years.”
“She still hasn’t remembered?”
Harper shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“That’s interesting, but it doesn’t explain why my sister was looking into not those missing years your mother lost but your mother’s college years.”
“Really?”
The young woman nodded. “All her inquiries were from the mid– to late–nineteen seventies.”
Harper had no idea and said as much. “So where does this anarchist group come in?”
“The Prophecy? Apparently, my sister thought that your mother had been part of the group and that’s what got her killed. Back in the seventies they blew up some government buildings, killed some people. A couple of the group went to prison. The others were never caught, until recently. The leader was believed to be the only woman in The Prophecy, a woman who resembled your mother, Sarah Johnson.”
She stared at Ariel in shock. “I had no idea.” She’d been kept in the dark. Who else knew about this? Her father obviously. But did her sisters? “If my mother really was part of the group...”
“That’s just it. Turns out apparently that some members of The Prophecy were trying to only make your mother look like she was the one called Red. Another woman confessed to being Red when some of the male members were caught. Another one was killed.”
“Wow, I’m beginning to realize how much I’ve missed being away at college and then abroad all these years,” Harper said. She wondered what else her family hadn’t told her and instantly thought of Brody and his family—and the body buried on the ranch.
“I know I should let it go, but it just feels...unfinished,” Ariel said as she got to her feet. “I was hoping someone in your family might have heard more about this anarchist group and how investigating your mother might be tied to my sister’s death.”
“Your sister didn’t leave any information?”
“No. The file on your mother was incomplete. That was another reason I was suspicious. My sister took copious notes on her cases.”
“That is odd.”
“Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you with this.” She reached into the side pocket of her purse. “If you don’t mind, can I leave my card with you? Should you hear anything...”
“I’ll let you know. I’m so sorry about your sister.”
“Thank you.”
Harper glanced at the card. It only had Ariel’s name and number on it. She walked her to the door. “So, are you a private investigator, as well?”
Ariel laughed and shook her head. “Good heavens, no. I’m a community planner. It was bad enough having a father and sister as gumshoes.”
Ariel stopped and pointed to a photograph of Buckmaster and Angelina. “I recognize your father. He’s running for president.”
Harper nodded. “That’s my stepmother with him. We don’t have any photos of my mother.” She knew that was odd and saw that Ariel did, too. “We think my stepmother got rid of all of them when she married my father.”
Ariel raised a brow.
“There was no love lost between them,